In 1993, twenty years ago, I wrote a book based on my twenty-five years of probing contact with indigenous people in which I came to basically the same conclusions as those enunciated last week by Marion Buller, chairperson of the recent inquiry into the issue of murdered and missing indigenous women and girls: that, as expressed in her report, “Canada, from its pre-colonial past to today, has aimed to ‘destroy indigenous peoples.’
"Canada
has displayed a continuous policy, with shifting expressed motives but an
ultimately steady intention, to destroy indigenous peoples physically, biologically,
and as social units,” she has concluded.
I remember
today as clearly as the day I first heard it, being told in 1968 about the built-in discrimination against women in
the Indian Act. I discovered this when I contacted the Chief of the Lake
Helen reserve, on Lake Nipigon, Willie
John, a wonderful little man, master of many trades, tireless campaigner for
the rights of returned servicemen, of which he was one, and relentless defender
of the rights of his people. While in Britain with the services, he had married
an Englishwoman, and he introduced me to his wife, a woman born in Yorkshire,
and told me she was regarded by the government, because of the Indian Act, as a
status Indian.
I had
been passed on to Willie by a native woman in Thunder Bay, Mrs. Paul McRae,
wife of a high school principal who later became a Member of Parliament. Though she still regarded herself as an
Indian, and for all I knew spoke her native language, she had lost her status
by marrying a white man, and was therefore regarded as a white person by the
government. A few days after meeting
her, I met one of her brothers, who was
a chief and who argued with me strenuously in favour of this discrimination. Later
I learned that Daphne Odjig, one of the leading native artists, was her sister,
and another brother was Wilf Pelletier,
a maverick character who for years expressed the spirit of native resistance
wherever he was to be found.
I was
staggered that the state could have interfered so blatantly in the intimate
lives of anyone, but it was only the first of many amazing revelations, most of
them contained not just in the contemporary
appalling condition of most Indian reserves, which I was only on the
point of discovering for myself, but also, as I found out later, in the written legislative record compiled by
Canadian legislators over the decades since at least the 1840s, legislation that
in 1876 was bound together by the newly-formed nation of Canada into fulfilment
of its newly-undertaken task of being responsible “for Indians and the lands
reserved for Indians.”
Here is how I described the Indian Act
on page 95 of my book, People of Terra Nullius:.
Many Canadians who
discover what has been done under the Indian Act can scarcely believe that such
things happened in Canada: the all-embracing totalitarian controls taken over
every aspect of Indian life; the deliberate degradation of native cultures; the
mean-spirited regulations that first reduced aboriginals to penury and then
ensured that they stayed poor; the fascistic race-classification system,
invented and administered by a race of faceless civil servants; the neglect of
aboriginal education and health; the deliberate subjugation of all things
Indian to the physical and psychological dominance of non-Indians. These
historical cruelties are responsible for the collective misery and individual
personal tragedies of much contemporary aboriginal life, to such an extent that
each aboriginal nation described in this book is engaged in a gargantuan
struggle to overcome the consequences of the 120 years they have been subject
to the Act.
The Royal Commission on Aboriginal
Peoples (RCAP)
had not yet reported, but it did in 1996, with a report of 4,000 pages and 440
suggested sweeping changes in relationships between the State and the
indigenous peoples --- its findings were put on the shelf, and forgotten;
The Truth
and Reconciliation Commission, arising from the settlement over the injustice of
residential schooling, reported in 2015 with 94 calls to action --- calls that
have been, on the whole, largely ignored;
and now the
MMIWG Commission has reported with its list of 231 “calls for justice”.
Surely, no one could deny that Canada
has a great record of making calls for action, justice or change. Over just
these three reports, 765 urgent calls to action.
This could be a Monty Python farce,
this record.
And these are far from being the only
reports of this nature: others, establishing the facts of how indigenous
people are habitually more often
arrested, more often charged, more often convicted, more often given harsher
sentences, and on and on…..have been the subject of reports in Alberta, Manitoba.
And probably other provinces as well.
I finished my book by recording how
in its first round of meetings, the RCAP, although receiving little attention
from the media, had visited 36 communities and heard from 800 witnesses, all of
which left the commissioners with many
more questions than answers, some of which I posed in ending my book:
“Will aboriginal self-government require more land and resources
to be placed under the control of aboriginal peoples? Assuredly, yes. But if
so, (to quote another of the commission’s questions) are Canadians willing to ensure
that aboriginal people achieve this? Only time will tell. (Later 2019 note: time has
told. They are not so willing.)
“ I hope that the public
sympathy now felt towards the aboriginal cause will be translated into
meaningful action of this kind. Much will depend on whether the Canadian public
continues to accept that the injustices of the past must be redressed. If Canadians
are as tolerant and pragmatic as we like to think, we should have no difficulty
in recognizing that we cannot
indefinitely maintain our own Third World of poverty, discrimination and
injustice, while still aspiring to fulfil
a moral role in global affairs.”
Perhaps
I should add that my 1993 book appears to have been read by only a handful of
people. It was issued without any notable promotional budget (which went
instead to the memoirs of General Mackenzie about the Bosnian war, published by
the same publisher), received hardly any reviews, and generally, so far as I
have been able to discover, sold no more than a handful of copies, a few
hundred at most.
With a record like this, is it any wonder
that, twenty-six years later, I am shrugging my shoulders and saying at the end
of each piece I write (with acknowledgements to the American novelist Don Marquis): “Wot the hell,…wot the hell…toujours gai,
toujours gai!”
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